


Wildfire

by Aini_NuFire



Series: Musketeer Dragon Riders [17]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Dragon Riders, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Athos, Hurt Savron, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23545255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aini_NuFire/pseuds/Aini_NuFire
Summary: As a wildfire devastates the south of France, the Musketeers are sent to combat it. But some things aren’t what they seem.
Series: Musketeer Dragon Riders [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564573
Comments: 29
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

Athos adjusted the scarf over his mouth and nose as he and Savron flew over the raging wild fire below. Hundreds of acres of the French countryside had been burning for a week now with no signs of the blaze dying out on its own. To the east, vast stretches of blackened landscape and stripped trees stood out like a garish blight on the land; to the west, thick plumes of smoke blotted out the sun and glowing orange rivers flowed in a relentless tide, devouring everything in its path.

Athos leaned down and reached for the knot at the base of his saddle. Savron banked over the forefront of the fire and Athos untied the rope, releasing one side of the tarp full of water Savron was carrying beneath him. The liquid splashed down to douse some of the flames, but it barely made a dent.

Savron veered away, and a line of two more dragons carrying similar rigs of water and dirt deposited their loads behind him. Sweeping over the wildfire, they then headed back to basecamp, which had been established at a village near a lake but as of yet not in the path of the fires. Savron landed with an uncharacteristic heavy thud, mouth hanging open as he panted in exhaustion. Athos immediately slid out of the saddle and unbuckled it, removing the extra weight to give his dragon a breather. He patted Savron's side in commiseration.

Each pair of dragon and rider worked in shifts of five cycles bearing loads from lake to wildfire, then took a break. The work took a far greater toll on the dragon who had to carry almost its own weight in water or dirt than it did the rider, but the nonstop pace under the constant threat of the winds changing and the fire shifting toward more villages was an exhausting burden for all involved.

D'Artagnan appeared with a bucket of water that he placed in front of Savron for the dragon to drink. "How's it going out there?" he asked Athos.

Athos turned his gaze to the hazy horizon and shook his head. "We need rain."

The boy's lips thinned. It was September and the chances of rain were slim.

A screech sounded from the lake, followed by another, and they looked over toward the water's edge where two dragons were growling and snapping at each other. Athos recognized the red one and shook his head in exasperation. Leaving Savron, he and d'Artagnan made their way over to where Aramis was ordering Rhaego to stand down and yelling at some men to keep the other dragon in check.

"That one started it!" one of the men lobbed back.

"Everyone, take a walk," Athos barked sharply. "There's plenty of shoreline to share." He looked at Aramis pointedly and the marksman began ushering his dragon away.

Rhaego glowered over his shoulder at the other dragon, who continued to bare its teeth in response.

"What happened?" d'Artagnan asked.

"That one looked at him wrong," Aramis said with a sigh. He ran a hand down his face, smudging the grimy ash that had accumulated there.

The magnitude of the natural disaster meant everyone had been called upon to combat the fires, including any nobles who owned dragons. But putting this many dragons together was a logistical nightmare, not just in terms of keeping them fed, but preventing fights as well.

"Here." D'Artagnan offered Aramis a canteen of water.

"Thanks." He took a long drag, then poured some down the back of his neck. "Porthos in yet?"

"Coming right now," Athos replied, spotting Vrita in the air and heading toward them.

D'Artagnan jogged off to get some water for her. The entire Musketeer garrison had been deployed to help with the fire relief efforts, but those without dragons were responsible for managing the stores, seeing to the dragons' needs, and assisting with evacuations of villages in the fire's path.

Vrita landed and immediately plopped on the ground before Porthos had even dismounted.

"She all right?" Aramis asked worriedly.

"Yeah," Porthos replied, stepping off her back.

Vrita smacked her jaw with a gurgle of disgruntlement, but it was more petulant than anything. D'Artagnan returned with a bucket of water that he set in front of her, and with a beleaguered huff, she lifted her head to take a drink. Aramis passed the canteen to Porthos.

"Where's the captain?" Porthos asked.

"With Baron Montheurt going over the maps," d'Artagnan replied.

"We got the northwest section down pretty good. We can probably double our efforts in another one."

Athos nodded. "That's good."

They left Vrita and Rhaego by the lake and made their way back into the village and to the captain's command tent where he'd set up a bunch of maps and strategies. Treville and Baron Montheurt looked up at their entrance.

"Report," Treville said.

Athos walked up to the table first and pointed to his section on the map. "The fire is still burning fiercely here. The last few dumps barely touched it."

Treville rested his palms on the table and hung his head between his shoulders. Even he was exhausted from everything, having taken his own shifts with Kilgar to fly out with water in between conference sessions with the local noblemen.

"The next shipment of refroidi isn't expected until tomorrow, and it will barely be three barrels' full."

The news was good yet disheartening. The King had drafted alchemists across France to make more of the fire-suppressing compound, but it was not a quick process.

Porthos stepped up next. "The fire's almost out here," he said, pointing on the map. "We could send a riderless dragon to keep an eye out for resurgence and divert the teams to Athos's grid."

Treville nodded, then lifted his head and gave them a surveying look. "You all just get back?"

Athos nodded in confirmation.

"I'm about to head out again," Aramis spoke up.

"Have you eaten?" Athos asked, knowing the marksman's propensity for neglecting his own needs during a crisis.

Aramis shot him a dry look, but that wasn't a yes. "Rhaego gets restless among the other dragons."

"He'll survive a little bit longer," Treville interjected. "Take a break."

Baron Montheurt cleared his throat. "I'll also get back to the relief efforts."

They all filed out of the command tent and went their separate ways, the musketeers to a supply wagon where d'Artagnan fished out some bread and divided it among them. Athos leaned back against the cart and nibbled half-heartedly at the bread. It had an ashy tang that wasn't all that appetizing.

Men and women milled about the village, which was overflowing not just with regiments fighting the fire but refugees from places that had already been destroyed. Riders and dragons came and went while others spread out in the field catching what sleep they could between shifts.

Athos's gaze was drawn to a group of half a dozen men arriving at the village. They had a rough look about them and were armed with quite an assortment of weapons. He watched as they scanned the camp intently.

"Do you gentlemen need something?" Athos called out.

A burly, bald man flicked a look his way. "We're lookin' for Baron Montheurt."

"He's out at the moment. As you can see, we're quite busy here. What is the nature of your business with him?"

The man's lip curved upward in a sneer. "He's expecting us."

One of his companions tapped his shoulder and pointed across the field to where the Baron was leading his dragon. With a snort, he shot the musketeers a parting look of disdain and turned to stride away.

"They don't really look like reinforcements," d'Artagnan commented.

"There's somethin' shifty about 'em," Porthos agreed.

Athos continued to keep an eye on them as they approached the Baron, but Montheurt didn't appear surprised or perturbed by their arrival. It was possible the Baron had hired mercenaries to assist in the fire suppression efforts. It was also possible men like that were looking to take advantage of the situation.

"There are dragons everywhere," Aramis put in. "They'd be foolish to attempt looting anything."

"Everyone's exhausted and their attention divided," Athos responded.

"You want to set an extra guard on the stores?"

They didn't really have the manpower for that.

"D'Artagnan, spread the word through the regiment to keep an extra eye out," Athos said.

The young Gascon nodded.

Aramis heaved an audible sigh and set his hat on his head. "Back to the grind." He strode off toward the lake to retrieve Rhaego.

Athos forced himself to finish the rest of his ration. He knew Porthos was on rotation to get some sleep and sent d'Artagnan a covert look to make sure their large friend didn't try to do an extra round first. He received a subtle smirk in response, then headed off to where he'd left Savron.

His dragon had drifted away from the more crowded part of the camp and was laying in the grass, awake but resting. Athos stopped to pick up the saddle, dragging the attached tarpaulin behind him as he walked up to Savron.

"Sorry," he said apologetically. "We have more work to do."

Savron heaved himself up without complaint. Athos set the saddle on his back and buckled it, then tied the tarp in place so it hung beneath him. He climbed up and Savron flapped his wings, lifting them into the air.

They flew to the lake where Savron lowered himself just enough to fill the hanging tarp with water. The dragon thwacked his wings harder and harder in an effort to lift the extra weight. On the shore, other dragons stepped over stretched canvas piled with dirt and stood still as the corners were tied to their saddle so they could carry them into the sky.

Athos rubbed an encouraging hand up and down Savron's neck, the only support he could offer as his dragon strained to gain enough altitude before veering toward the burning forest. They flew toward their assigned grid where the flames blazed in a fulvous sea and roared with the power of a hurricane. Savron angled them over the front of the encroaching fire and Athos released their load. Then they banked and turned around to head back and do it all over again.

But as they were flying back to the lake, Athos spotted a spurt of flames shooting up higher than the surrounding ones. He frowned and tapped Savron's neck, pointing toward it. The silverback veered that direction. Athos couldn't see anything through the smoke and flames, but that surge had looked strange, more like a dragon's geyser. And if a dragon was out there making a catastrophic situation worse…then it needed to be taken care of.

They flew over the spot where Athos had seen the surge, but he didn't see any dragon in the blaze below. Frowning, he signaled for Savron to circle a few more times. The fire snapped and crackled, but still there didn't seem to be anything else down there.

Until a column of fire erupted again, shooting up past burning trees and almost clipping Savron's wing. The dragon banked sharply to avoid it, but his correction sent him into a dive toward the ground. Athos gripped the saddle tightly and flattened himself over Savron's neck in a desperate bid to hang on. His anchor line wouldn't do him any good if he fell into the roaring flames below.

Savron flapped his wings, pulling himself up before they hit the ground, but now they were hovering just a few feet above the forest floor surrounded by fire. Athos was about to nudge his dragon into getting them out of there, when a portion of the flames directly ahead seemed to _step out_ from the rest. Athos could almost see the contours of a shape in the flames, with two eyes blazing like suns. The only word his mind could supply in that moment was _demon_.

Then a horrendous shriek pierced his eardrums and the figure exploded. The flames slammed over Savron, who reared back with a roar of pain. Athos was thrown from the saddle. He hit the ground and then was yanked hard as Savron wrenched sideways, jerking the anchor line. Just as Athos thought he was about to be dragged through the burning underbrush, the rope snapped, having been eaten through by fire. Savron continued to flail in an effort to get away from the flames, crashing into charred trees and snapping their trunks like sticks.

One fell toward Athos, and he tried to roll out of the way, but there was nowhere to go. Flames were everywhere, surging higher from that incendiary explosion. The burning tree fell across Athos's legs, pinning him. Tongues of fire licked across his legs and hip, tearing an agonized cry from his throat. Smoke immediately choked him and stung at his eyes until they were too watery to see anything but glowing orange. He tried to call out for Savron but only coughed and gagged on ash. He couldn't move his legs.

The roar of flames and rushing blood sounded in his ears, drowning out everything else. His vision grew spotty from lack of oxygen and began to dim. He gave one last struggle to pull himself free and promptly collapsed, cheek pressed to charred ground when he failed.

As everything faded around him, he thought he saw the flames parting a path in front of him, but then everything went black.

.o.0.o.

D'Artagnan wrinkled his nose as he helped Jean unload a cart of mutton, the carcasses freshly skinned and shipped out to the camp as feed for the dragons. As royal dragon keeper, Bonacieux had been deployed with the garrison. Constance would have come as well if she didn't have little Ayelet to care for, and this chaotic mess was no place for a baby dragon.

A screech sounded in the distance, drawing d'Artagnan's gaze. Was someone signaling something? But instead of a trumpet call, the cry echoed again, high-pitched in a way that set d'Artagnan on edge. Around him, all the Musketeer dragons currently at camp jerked their heads up in alarm.

"Who is it?" Porthos asked, jogging over, his own gaze intently scanning the hazy horizon.

"I don't know," d'Artagnan replied.

Jean was looking over the dragons at camp. "Four of ours are out."

The cry sounded again, weaker now. A few yards away, Vrita lifted her head and let out a plaintive call.

Porthos stiffened. "It's Rhaego or Savron." He strode quickly toward his dragon.

D'Artagnan sprinted after him. "I'm coming too."

Porthos shot him a look but apparently decided not to argue. D'Artagnan felt a surge of frustration that he didn't have his own dragon—two was the max a dragon could carry and if Aramis or Athos were hurt, he'd be taking up valuable weight on Vrita's back. But he couldn't just stay behind and fret while waiting for his friends to return.

He climbed up behind Porthos and held on as Vrita leaped into the air. As she flew toward the source of the dragon cries, d'Artagnan caught sight of a red dragon also heading that direction. His relief at seeing Aramis and Rhaego was doused with the subsequent realization that Savron was the one screaming.

The shrieks had died down, filling d'Artagnan with dread. They soared over the burning forest until both Vrita and Rhaego veered left. The dragons pulled up short to hover over a patch of forest, and d'Artagnan was horrified to see Savron writhing on the ground below with blackened scorch marks across his muted blue scales.

Porthos and Aramis exchanged a wordless look, and then the dragons were descending. The belch of hot air that buffeted them took d'Artagnan's breath away.

Aramis leaped off Rhaego and rushed to Savron's side. D'Artagnan followed suit and scanned the burning area.

"Athos!" He threw an arm up against the searing heat of the flames while trying to see through them. "Athos!"

"We need to move!" Aramis yelled a moment later.

D'Artagnan whirled. "I can't find him!"

"Athos!" Porthos bellowed.

But they received no answer and d'Artagnan couldn't see any sign of their brother. A trail of broken trees showed the path Savron seemed to have taken through the fire, and there was no telling how far away he'd lost his rider. The fire was roaring around them; d'Artagnan felt smoke begin to clog his nose and throat.

"We need to go!" Aramis reiterated. He untied the tarp attached to the bottom side of Rhaego's saddle and secured the end of the rope to Savron's saddle instead. He then rushed over to Vrita and did the same with hers.

D'Artagnan was loath to leave without Athos, but his eyes were burning and watering and if they didn't move, they'd be swallowed by the flames. So he forced himself to turn and clamber back onto Vrita after Porthos. The dragons launched themselves back into the air, their massive wing thwacks beating back the flames encroaching on them. Savron struggled to rise, pained cries guttering in his throat as he fought to flap his wings. Vrita and Rhaego pulled with all their might. D'Artagnan silently urged them to keep going, and then they finally rose above the tree line and out of reach of the flames.

It was a strenuous, precarious flight back to camp, jarred a few times by Savron dropping abruptly and Vrita and Rhaego jolting and straining to keep him aloft. By the time they reached the camp, Savron's wings gave out and he crashed the last ten feet to the ground. Vrita and Rhaego hurriedly landed beside him and the musketeers dismounted.

Jean was already running toward them, along with several other musketeers and the captain not far behind them. Bonacieux's eyes widened as he took in the burns across Savron's hide.

"I need water, cloths, and honey!" he shouted at Pierre, who nodded and swiftly pivoted to rush back toward their supply wagons.

"What happened?" Treville demanded when he reached them.

"We don' know," Porthos reported. "We found 'im injured in a burning part of the forest." His jaw ticked. "There was no sign of Athos."

"I thought dragons couldn't be hurt by regular fire?" d'Artagnan put in.

"They can't," Jean answered as he looked over Savron's injuries. The silverback lolled his head and let out a low keen.

"A clash with another dragon?" Aramis brought up as he helped Jean remove Savron's saddle without brushing against any of the burns.

Savron gave a clipped bark of a response.

"Not a dragon?" Aramis checked.

Savron closed his eyes and rolled his head to the other side, which seemed to indicate a negative.

"Then what?" d'Artagnan asked. "What else can burn a dragon?"

Everyone exchanged blank looks, not having an answer.

Pierre and two more men returned with the items Jean needed, and the dragon keeper quickly began to clean one of the burns. Savron's breathing increased until he was shaking under the ministration.

"Easy," Jean soothed.

Aramis knelt down and placed bracing hands on the dragon's head in a gesture of comfort.

"We have to go back for Athos," d'Artagnan declared.

"We can't spare the resources," Treville immediately replied.

D'Artagnan gaped at him incredulously.

The captain's expression was grim and full of regret. "The wind has shifted and the fire is now headed this way. We have a narrow window to stop it before we have to order an evacuation. We need everyone at our disposal."

He threw Aramis a look, and the marksman reluctantly stood and moved away from Savron. D'Artagnan watched helplessly as every dragon rider, including Aramis and Porthos, headed to the lake.

The captain paused to look back at him. "Maybe someone will spot him," he offered, but it was weak.

"He went down nowhere near here," d'Artagnan countered.

Treville nodded gravely. "Then we can only pray he finds his way back on his own." He turned and made his way down to join the others at the shore to fly out on his dragon with them.

"D'Artagnan," Jean called after a moment. "If we're to evacuate, I need help with Savron."

D'Artagnan took a breath, swallowing down his frustration and fear, and tried to focus on his duty as a musketeer and not his failure as a brother.


	2. Chapter 2

Athos twisted his head, trying to escape the excruciating pain that dragged him from the blackness of oblivion. He couldn't. Everything was a haze of agony, confusion…strange words chanted lowly. He gasped as a surge of ice brushed across his legs. Then there was nothing again. Until the fire awoke anew and another tormented cry was torn from his throat. He heard a voice, or thought he did, but none of the words made sense. He turned, desperately seeking the one thing he counted on at the most instinctual level—his brothers. There was a flash of stunning green eyes instead, and then peace once more.

The next time awareness returned, it was calmer and more lucid. Athos slowly prized his eyelids open and squinted blearily at an array of strange objects hanging from the rafters above him. There were feathers, gourds, beads and thread woven into webs. He watched them for a delayed moment before moving his attention down to take stock of himself. The memory of pain was fresh but he felt only a shadow of it now. Tentatively, he shifted his legs. The pain spiked slightly, but he also felt the brush of a thin blanket directly against his bare legs.

He bolted his head up as he registered he was naked from the waist down. He was still wearing his shirt but his coat was gone.

He heard the creak of a door and whipped his head toward it, getting a blurred glimpse of the rest of his surroundings. He was in a small hut, lying on a low bed against the back wall.

A woman with dark curls paused in the open door. "Welcome back."

"Agnes." Athos pushed himself up onto his elbows but stopped from sitting up further before the blanket could pool much lower. She was the last person he had ever expected to run into after he'd helped fake her death when she'd been accused of witchcraft and poisoning a bunch of crops.

"How did I come to be here?" he asked with a frown. For that matter, where was here? The last he'd known, he'd been in the middle of an inferno.

"I found you, brought you here," she replied, closing the door and coming to sit in a chair a few feet from the bed.

His frowned deepened. "What were you doing out in the middle of a wildfire?"

"Doing what I could to help in the face of this disaster," she replied smoothly. He remembered she had that way about her. "As small as my efforts can be."

Athos clutched the blanket and held it as he slowly sat up further. "I thought you were going south?"

"This is south."

"Out of France."

Agnes shrugged. "I got waylaid." Her lips twitched. "My apologies to your dignity, but I needed to tend your burns."

The sting flared at the reminder, and Athos carefully lifted the edge of the blanket to get a look underneath. He was stunned to find only mild burns of raw and slightly blistered flesh on his thighs and over his right hip. He could have sworn when the flames had him in their grasp, he'd been dying.

"I have a salve for them, but I'll let you put it on," she said with a knowing smile and stood up. Retrieving a tin from a small work table, she passed it over, then picked up a pair of trousers with discolored patches covering singed lines. "I also took the liberty of patching these up as best I could. Your braes were…a little beyond repair."

Athos faltered at the last part as he saw the amount of patching she'd done and registered the daylight streaming through the windows. "How long have I been here?" he asked tensely.

"Overnight."

He almost flew from the bed right then. "I have to get back. Where's Savron?"

Agnes's brow pinched. "Your dragon?"

"Yes." Athos stiffened at her expression. "He's not here? He was with me in the fire. I think he was wounded…"

Agnes looked remorseful. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't see him when I found you. Here." She laid the pants on the chair she'd vacated, then picked up a pair of tattered underpants to put on top of them. Finally she turned her back to him as she went to putter around her counter. "Put that salve on first."

Athos almost forewent putting the stuff on, but he could hear Aramis in his head reprimanding him for it, so he opened the tin and dipped two fingers into the greasy unguent. He rubbed it quickly over his burns, gritting his teeth against the pain. Then he reached for his braes. He paused as he fingered the gaping holes lined with black—if that much of his leathers had burned away, surely his injuries should have been worse?

He flicked a look at Agnes's back. How had she dragged him out of the fire when everything had been burning and he'd been trapped under a fallen tree?

Clenching his jaw, he slipped into his pants. There were more important matters to address at the moment. "I have to get back to the village of Heron. How far is it from here?"

"On foot? A few hours," she replied without turning around.

Athos found his boots at the end of the bed and put them on. "I have to report what I encountered, and I have to find Savron."

"Encountered?" Agnes repeated, starting to turn but catching herself.

"I'm decent."

She craned her head to look at him. "You encountered something in the fire?"

Athos hesitated. He didn't even know how to explain what he saw. "I don't know. For a moment, there seemed to be… _something_. I heard an animalistic screech and the fire exploded. Savron was caught and the fire hurt him."

Fire wasn't supposed to hurt a dragon.

Athos shook his head. "Perhaps it's a demon." Which made him cringe to admit. "And if it is, the fire isn't going to stop on its own." Thus he needed to report back as quickly as possible.

He spotted his coat and snatched it up; it reeked of smoke. His weapons belt was last but he faltered at putting it around his waist with his hip still tender, so he opted to carry it instead.

"Thank you for your help," he said as he made his way toward the door, only to pull up short upon stepping outside. A wide stretch of green surrounded Agnes's hut, beyond which was the charred remains of the forest. And all around this remarkably untouched greenery were dozens of woodland creatures clustered together.

Athos turned to give Agnes an incredulous look.

"I've been trying to save what animals I can," she explained.

He glanced back at foxes and rabbits huddled together, not to mention squirrels and deer, all manner of species intermingled.

"It's amazing how creatures can put aside differences in a common state of disaster," she commented.

He didn't know what to make of that. "You're very lucky the fire passed you by," he said carefully.

"Indeed."

Athos's jaw ticked. He was getting the same sensation he'd had the first time he'd worked with her on the diseased crops: a prickling on the back of his neck at something just this side of too strange to explain.

Agnes's expression turned thoughtful. "You saw this fire demon where I found you?"

Athos furrowed his brow. "Yes. Why?"

"No reason," she deflected. "Just that someone should go take a look. The fire would have burned past that area by now."

"You cannot be serious—"

"Why not?" she challenged.

"It's dangerous."

"I can take care of myself."

Athos stared at her dubiously. "There is a demon running around perpetuating this fire."

Dear god, he'd said it.

"And it needs to be stopped," she replied, accepting the declaration without blinking. She stepped out and closed her door behind her. "Heron is that way," she said, pointing northwest before turning and heading a different direction.

Athos drew in a long breath and went after her.

Agnes cast a look over her shoulder. "What are you doing?"

"You can't go alone," he said grudgingly.

"I really can."

Athos shook his head in irritation. "Regardless, it might be prudent for me to have more information before I report back."

It was a weak excuse but not necessarily a false one. He just hoped Savron had made it back safely, and that his brothers weren't going out of their minds with worry for him in the meantime.

.o.0.o.

Aramis and Rhaego soared over a landscape of blackened earth and ash-white sticks protruding from the ground—the skeletal remains of a once beautiful woodland. The fire still burned, heading north, but the sky was clear of dragons for the moment. It had taken everyone working tirelessly through the night but they'd managed to stop the wildfire from reaching the camp. It was a hollow victory though, because in that time Athos had yet to return to them, and everything in the fire's wake had been laid to waste, making it impossible to trace their way back to where they'd found Savron and look for him. And since the fire wasn't fully out yet, there was more work ahead and they couldn't afford to dispatch a search party. The only reason Aramis and Rhaego were out now was to put some distance between the russet dragon and some others primed for a scuffle.

Aramis scanned the land below, hoping against hope to spot their missing brother before it was time to head back and resume his shift on fire suppression.

He didn't.

He did, however, see a group of figures gathered in a burned out section of the forest. He tapped Rhaego's neck to indicate he wanted the dragon to pull up into a hover and then pulled out his spyglass from one of the saddle pouches. Aramis frowned to himself. Those were the newcomers from yesterday. What were they doing out there? Aramis shifted the spyglass to each of them, wondering if maybe they'd found Athos…but they hadn't.

"Take us down," he instructed Rhaego, who turned into a dive. They landed a short distance away behind a small knoll, then proceeded to make their way closer on foot.

There wasn't a lot of cover for a man with a red dragon to sneak up on the group, but they were all apparently too preoccupied to notice. Aramis slowed to a stop behind some large oak trunks and watched in confusion as the men wrestled with an iron cage. Inside they had captured a very large bird, almost the size of a peacock but without the noteworthy tail. It was mostly brown, though with some red, orange, and yellow streaked feathers. The bird was thrashing and screeching in distress, rocking the cage the men were trying to lift up. Then it started to glow.

"Stop it!" one of the men shouted in warning.

There was more yelling and someone banged the bars of the cage, but then the bird _exploded_ into several bursts of flames that shot out between the bars. Aramis jolted in flabbergasted shock at the sight. The men scattered to get out of reach of the flames.

Could _that_ have anything to do with the wildfire? What was he even seeing? The cage was wreathed in flames now, but the surrounding area was already charred and so they didn't spread. It was several long moments before the fire died down, leaving the bird inside the cage, seemingly untouched. It was lying on the floor of the cage, panting and keening though.

Rhaego let out a roar and suddenly charged forward, nearly knocking Aramis down in his haste.

"Wh- Rhaego!"

But it was too late, the dragon was barreling into the clearing and sending the men fleeing. He went straight for the cage where he whipped around, taking a protective stance over it. The men sputtered in dismay but quickly recovered and drew their weapons. Aramis thought he caught a glimpse of obsidian among them, and so he drew his sword and plunged into the fight. They looked just as surprised to see him as Rhaego, but it was clear after a moment that these were hardened mercenaries. Two met Aramis head-on while the others faced the dragon.

Rhaego screeched and swiped his tail around, knocking three clear off their feet. He spun the other direction and opened his maw as his belly began to glow.

Aramis parried a blow and deflected another. He caught sight of one of the men grabbing some refroidi from a pouch, and so he whipped out his pistol and shot him before he could quench Rhaego's fire. Twisting away, he clubbed another man in the face with the hot side of the barrel.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the mercenaries reach for his gun. Rhaego unleashed a geyser of fire upon him and his nearby companions. There were a few cries as the flames whooshed too close, and the men finally turned tail and fled. Aramis ran his sword through his last opponent and then staggered back to catch his breath. Three men lay on the ground, dead or unconscious.

Rhaego turned to the cage and seized the bars with his talons. Then he began gnawing at the hinges in an attempt to work the joining rod free so the door would just fall off.

Aramis approached cautiously, a wary eye on the bird that moments before had been a blazing torch. He didn't know what kind of creature it was, but his dragon seemed mighty protective of it.

Metal creaked as it bent under the dragon's earnest efforts.

"Hang on," Aramis interjected, wedging himself in to open the series of latches himself.

Once the door was open, Rhaego lowered his head to the ground and poked his nose gently into the cage. The bird let out a plaintive squawk in return.

Aramis went around the side and crouched down to get a better look at it. There wasn't a single burn mark or singed feather. And if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would have thought it just an overly large pheasant.

He canted his head as he noticed a metallic glint. There was a bolt shaft protruding from the bird's shoulder at the wing juncture. Aramis pressed his lips together and carefully reached through the bars. The bird flinched and he made to grab it quickly, hoping to pull the bolt out in one go. But he'd scarcely seized it when the bird began to shriek and flap wildly…and flames started to lick across its feathers.

Aramis yanked his hands back and gaped in bewilderment. "Okay…" That wasn't going to be an option. He looked over at Rhaego. "Any ideas?"

Rhaego gave him the dragon equivalent of a shrug and leaned down again to coo at the bird.

Aramis shook his head. Of all things, his dragon had decided to randomly make friends with a bird that turned into fire.

He supposed it made sense on some level.

Aramis stood and looked around, at a loss as to what to do. He didn't want to touch the bird again. Nor did he think it a good idea to attempt bringing it back to camp, not if there was a chance it would explode into flames again. Could a creature such as that have hurt Savron? But Rhaego wasn't frightened of it. And what did that mean for Athos?

Aramis removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. There was a wildfire consuming the country, and this creature could have started it. Those men who'd been hunting it could come back, and likely would. They wouldn't want a prize like this to get away. Aramis was out in the middle of nothing with no way to get a message to the others.

So, he had absolutely no idea what to do now.


	3. Chapter 3

Porthos stood with arms crossed and gaze narrowed on the sky. Beside him, Vrita belted out a call. They waited several moments, but there was no answering trumpet.

"Dammit," he muttered.

He turned on his heel and stormed across the grounds to where d'Artagnan was sitting with Savron, holding a bucket of water at an angle so the dragon could drink without having to move too much.

"How's he doin'?"

"Jean's done what he can," d'Artagnan replied. "We don't have enough honey to coat all the burns."

Porthos roved his gaze over the wounded dragon, grimacing in sympathy. "Aramis should've looked 'im over," he griped.

D'Artagnan frowned at him. "What's wrong?"

Porthos heaved a sigh. "Aramis went out earlier an' hasn't come back."

The boy's eyebrows rose sharply and he whipped his gaze out toward the vista. "Do you think he found Athos?" he asked, half doubtful, half hopeful.

Porthos's jaw tightened. If Aramis had found Athos, why hadn't they returned? What had happened to Athos and Savron out there in the first place? Had Aramis and Rhaego fallen victim to it next?

He looked at the wounded silverback. "You think you could lead us back to where you an' Athos were separated?"

Savron's eyes pinched and he looked away shamefully. Porthos immediately felt guilty.

"I'm sorry. Hey, this ain't yer fault."

The dragon let out a low keen.

D'Artagnan shot Porthos a pointed look as he shifted to take the dragon's head in his arms, offering what comfort he could when they were all trying not to acknowledge the truth: that Athos was gone.

Porthos ran a hand over his bandana and moved away before he could make the poor dragon feel worse. He paused as he caught sight of the group of mercenary-looking men from yesterday returning to camp. After Athos went missing and the winds shifted the direction of the fire, he had completely forgotten about keeping an eye out for them. No one had reported any of the stores missing either.

There were less of them now, he noted, as they marched through the camp to Baron Montheurt's tent. The Baron stepped out to meet them and listened to something they had to say. Whatever it was seemed to make him angry, and he threw a scathing glance at some nearby musketeers.

"Wonder what that's about," d'Artagnan commented, also watching.

"Yeah."

Something was up. A dragon had been severely wounded. Aramis was now missing too. What the hell was going on out there?

.o.0.o.

Athos picked his way over charred ground as he followed Agnes through a burned out section of forest. Nothing was recognizable anymore. He knew fire was nature's way of cleansing the old to make way for new growth, but it was hard to imagine anything growing back in this. And if this fire wasn't natural…well, Athos didn't want to imagine all of France being razed from this.

Agnes slowed to a stop and looked around.

"What is it?" Athos asked, coming up beside her.

"This is where I found you," she replied. "And so where you spotted the fire entity."

Athos roved his gaze around, eyes alighting on a pair of criss-crossed downed trees. That could have been where he was pinned, where he thought he was going to die.

Ignoring their reason for being here for a moment, Athos moved forward and began to search for signs of Savron—tracks, impressions in the soil, anything.

But if there had been something before, there wasn't now. Some trees lay in splintered pieces from Savron crashing into them, but how far he'd fled or even which direction remained a mystery. Athos's only solace was there was no body. He didn't think a demon's fire would have reduced a dragon to ash. He hoped not anyway.

He turned back to Agnes, who was kneeling on the ground and hovering a hand over the blackened earth. "What are you doing?"

"Thinking," she replied without looking up.

"I see no evidence of anything," he went on, surveying the area himself.

Agnes stood up. "It's long gone, that's for sure."

"Unless what I saw was a figment of an oxygen-deprived mind."

She gave him a simpering smile. "I don't doubt you, Athos."

Given what they were looking for, he thought him momentarily losing his mind would be preferable.

Agnes started walking again.

"Now where are you going?"

"It's not here, so we should look somewhere else."

"What makes you think it went that way?"

She shrugged. "It's as good a place to try as any."

Athos's jaw clenched. They did not have time to go traipsing around willy-nilly. "I need to return to the camp."

Agnes extended her arm to point without stopping or looking back. "It's that way."

He bristled. Fine, if she wanted to stay out here, that was her business—

"Athos," she called.

He turned and hurried after her, tensing in anticipation of what she may have found.

She pointed at something ahead of them. "I recognize that dragon."

Athos straightened; so did he. He quickened his pace, weaving through scorched woodland toward the russet dragon. "Rhaego!"

The dragon whipped his head around and let out a throaty call in return but stayed where he was. Athos caught sight of movement beside him and then Aramis was stepping out in front of his dragon, eyes widening.

"Athos!" He broke into a jog to meet them, his shocked look morphing into half delirious delight as he reached for Athos and pulled him into a fervent hug. He drew back almost immediately, holding Athos by the shoulders to give him a thorough once-over. "Thank God."

"Hello, Aramis," Agnes greeted with a small smile as she joined them.

Aramis blinked at her in bewilderment. "Agnes. What are you doing here?"

"I live nearby."

Aramis shook his head as though filing that away for later and turned back to Athos. "What happened? We thought…"

Athos rotated his wrist to seize Aramis's arm. "Savron, is he…?"

Aramis's expression turned serious. "We found him. He's been injured, burned, but Jean's treated him. When we couldn't find you, we thought the worst. And then the winds shifted and nobody could be spared to search for you."

"Agnes found me. She brought me to her house, which miraculously escaped the fire."

Aramis visibly sagged in relief and smiled at the woman. "I seem to recall you were supposed to leave France, but I won't question Providence."

"I'm living in complete isolation, don't worry," she replied.

"Except for the foxes and rabbits," Athos muttered dryly.

Aramis quirked a brow at him.

"If you thought I was dead, what are you doing out here?" Athos asked.

"Ah." Aramis glanced over his shoulder at his dragon. "We've found something…interesting."

Only then did Athos realize Rhaego hadn't been paying them any attention—which wasn't entirely uncharacteristic for the dragon—but as they shifted around to the dragon's other side, Athos could see why.

Rhaego was hovering over a very large bird that was sitting on the ground, one wing splayed out as though broken.

Athos arched a dubious brow at Aramis. Since when did Rhaego make friends with fowl?

Aramis snorted. "Yeah, remember those mercenary-looking men who came into camp the other day? We found them out here trying to capture this bird. And, well, Rhaego apparently took offense to that."

Agnes crouched down, staying a few feet away from it. "It's wounded."

"Bolt through the wing juncture," Aramis confirmed. "I tried to remove it, but, well, let's just say it didn't go well. We've been making a slow trek just to get away from where the mercenaries last saw us, but other than that, I don't know what to do."

"Why?" Athos put in.

"Well…" Aramis glanced at the bird and grimaced.

"What?"

The marksman reached a hand up to rub the back of his neck. "Well, uh, it's going to sound crazy, but…the bird…burst into fire."

Agnes stood up swiftly. "It did what?"

"Yes, I know it sounds insane," Aramis said defensively. "But the men had it in a cage and it just…" He mimed an explosion with his hands. "And then Rhaego decided to rescue it. I don't know what it is, but I have to wonder if it has something to do with the wildfire. Which is why I can't take it anywhere that hasn't already burned."

Athos turned his flummoxed gaze toward the bird. It didn't look anything like what he'd seen in the forest before, but what else could it have been? Surely there wasn't more than one fiery beast wandering around.

"If it is responsible for the fires," he said carefully, "then it needs to be taken care of."

Aramis frowned. "You believe me?"

"I saw something in the fire. Not that, as it appears now," he said with a nod to the bird. "But it was dangerous enough to hurt Savron. We can't risk it hurting anyone else."

"Whoa," Aramis interjected, stepping closer and lowering his voice. "What exactly are you suggesting?"

Athos shot him a pointed look in return. "What needs to be done."

"No," Agnes interrupted sharply. "You can't harm it."

Rhaego jerked his attention toward them at that, his expression furrowing and a low growl emanated from his throat.

"Of course not," Aramis readily agreed, thrusting a hand at his dragon to hold him off. "We don't even know what it is."

"It's a phoenix."

Aramis blinked and turned to Agnes. "What?"

"It's a phoenix. A firebird."

"Isn't that a myth?"

"Apparently not."

"That doesn't change anything," Athos argued. "It's dangerous."

"A phoenix lives for thousands of years before bursting into flame and being born again from the ashes," Agnes said sternly. "You think it's a myth because it's never drawn attention to itself."

"Until now."

She huffed in irritation. "See that wound?" she asked, pointing sharply at the bolt in the bird's shoulder. "My guess is the phoenix has been trying to regenerate to dislodge the bolt so it can heal, only it's not working. If we remove the bolt, it should be able to heal itself and then it won't be a threat to anyone anymore."

"Uh, that's not a good idea," Aramis interjected. "The moment I tried to pull it out, the bird—phoenix—started to catch fire."

Agnes's brows furrowed.

"We can't remove the bolt and we can't allow it to go free," Athos said pointedly. "Others have seen it, and if they don't yet know what they were trying to capture, they will soon. What then? When word spreads and everyone wants to hunt this creature down? The entire country could burn!"

"I don't know," Aramis exclaimed. "But I'd like to think of another option than killing it when this isn't its fault."

"It's not a sentient being."

"I'm not so sure about that." Aramis turned to give the phoenix a pointed look.

The bird was cowering on the ground, looking wary, and Rhaego was glowering at the lot of them while lowering himself protectively over the bird.

Athos sighed in frustration. Their only course of action was clear. Regrettable, yes, but necessary. If Savron were here…

Athos closed his eyes for a moment in defeat. He wanted to be angry for the phoenix hurting his dragon, but the truth was if Savron were here, the silverback might very well side with this fellow creature of fire.

"There's still the obstacle of helping it without triggering another fire," he said grudgingly.

Aramis inhaled audibly. "Maybe it can control it…maybe Rhaego can tell it we're only trying to help and to _not_ explode on us."

"And if it's an automatic response?" Athos rejoined.

"I can hold the fire at bay," Agnes spoke up.

Both of them turned toward her in confusion.

"What do you mean?" Aramis asked.

Agnes drew in a deep breath and lifted her chin. "If you perform the surgery, I can hold the fire back so it doesn't burn you."

Athos narrowed his eyes, not liking the niggling feeling in his gut. "How?"

She looked him straight in the eye, then turned slightly and raised her palm outward. In a hushed voice, she uttered a word Athos couldn't catch, and flame suddenly sparked in her open hand. Athos's spine snapped taut and his hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword. Agnes muttered another word and the flame extinguished. For a long moment, there was sheer silence.

"You _are_ a witch," Aramis blurted.

Agnes shrugged one shoulder. "I'm sure you understand why I wouldn't have said so earlier." She turned to Athos again, fixing him with a staunch look. "Are you going to arrest me after this?"

Athos's jaw was clenched so tightly he was on the verge of breaking a tooth. He knew what the law was, what his duty was. He remembered his doubts when she'd cured those crops of the disease that was destroying them. And now he knew for certain.

But he hesitated. Swallowing hard, he said, "My own wounds, you used magic on them."

Aramis jerked his gaze to him. "Wait, what?"

"They were severe," Agnes confirmed. "You would have died, in agony, after several days."

He sucked in a sharp breath. He'd _known_. Deep down he'd known something wasn't right. That fire should have killed him.

"Athos?" Aramis asked quietly, worriedly.

"They're mild now," he replied softly. "And have been tended to."

Aramis flicked an uncertain look between him and Agnes. "Athos…"

"No," he interrupted loudly. "No, we are not going to arrest you," he clarified.

It was nearly treasonous to do so. But then, so had been faking her death and helping her escape the first time. Agnes was a witch and used magic, but all they had seen of her was the evidence of a woman who had a desire to help. Athos couldn't call her evil for that, though he knew the Church would.

Agnes dipped her head in gratitude. "Alright then, shall we get to work?"

They all turned their attention to the phoenix, who visibly bristled under the scrutiny.

"Rhaego, can you tell it we just want to help?" Aramis asked.

The dragon flicked a suspicious look at Athos before leaning his head down and making a snuffling sound at the bird. Aramis went to the dragon's saddlebags and pulled out his med kit, then waited respectfully as Rhaego and the bird exchanged a series of chirps. After a few moments, Rhaego looked at Aramis and canted his head in affirmation.

Aramis took a breath and very slowly approached the phoenix, easing himself down next to it. Agnes knelt on its other side. The bird fidgeted in obvious discomfort. Aramis laid out his med kit, removed his gloves, and then leaned closer to get a better look at the wound.

"Easy…" he soothed as he gently took the wing and shifted it out of the way.

The bird squawked and Rhaego lowered his nose to snuffle its head reassuringly.

Aramis's jaw tightened. "It looks like the area has reformed around the wound. I'll have to cut it." He flicked a look up at Athos. "You might want to stand back."

"I'm fine," he replied. There was no question this could be dangerous, and though he was of no use in what Aramis and Agnes were going to attempt, that didn't mean he was going to leave them. "Should you put your gloves back on?"

Aramis shook his head. "Not enough dexterity and I need to be precise if this is going to be quick." He looked at Agnes with trepidation. "You're sure about this?"

"Yes."

"I suppose if I do get burned, you apparently can just heal that," he muttered to himself and reached for a scalpel from his kit. Pausing, he took a deep breath, then a second one. The phoenix had one amber eye fixed on him intently as he angled the blade closer. Agnes held her hands out over the bird.

Athos watched tensely over Aramis's shoulder, poised to grab him and pull him away should this fail.

Aramis lowered the scalpel to the bird's shoulder and made an incision. It threw its head back and shrieked, twitching as it fought not to thrash. Blood spilled out, followed by slivers of flame. Athos stiffened and shifted forward, but the rivulets of fire suddenly bent backwards, flowing away from Aramis.

" _Merde_ ," the marksman muttered.

"Do it," Athos said tersely.

Aramis gripped the juncture of the wing with one hand and the bolt with the other. Then he pulled.

The phoenix let out a piercing squall and more flames burst out across its feathers, but Agnes's hands apparently held them at bay. Aramis gave one last yank and the bolt ripped free. He jerked backward, bumping into Athos's legs. Agnes stayed where she was, palms raised like a shield as the phoenix scrambled away from them, fire erupting in a whoosh over its shoulder. The flames curled up and around its body, and Athos stared in amazement that they didn't blacken any of the feathers.

And then the flames receded and winked out, leaving the bird whole and unmarred. It extended its wings and gave an experimental flap. There was no sign of its previous wound.

Rhaego scampered over to give it a curious sniff and the phoenix ruffled its feathers in response.

Aramis breathed out loudly and got to his feet. "Well, that was different." He turned to Agnes. "My thanks."

"Thank you," she replied. "I wouldn't have been able to extract the bolt and repel the fire."

"And you believe that resolves everything?" Athos put in. "What about the next time it gets wounded and starts a forest fire?"

"You could make that argument about any dragon," she rejoined.

"Since we went to the trouble of saving it, I believe we should let it be," Aramis interjected.

Athos held back a sigh, then stiffened as he heard a twig snap. He and Aramis both snapped their gazes around to find a group of six men had come upon them, all with weapons drawn.

"Rhaego, our friends are back," Aramis said under his breath but loud enough for his dragon to hear.

Rhaego jerked his attention away from the phoenix and narrowed his eyes at the newcomers. But then a thwack of wingbeats drew all of their gazes up as a chartreuse dragon swooped down and landed between the two parties.

"Baron Montheurt," Athos greeted in surprise.

The Baron dismounted from his dragon, stern gaze sweeping over the situation. He then turned to the musketeers. "Hand over the phoenix, gentlemen."


	4. Chapter 4

Aramis stood stock still as he mentally evaluated this little showdown they found themselves in. One dragon on each side nullified any advantage there. Two against seven armed men wasn't very good odds. They did have a witch on their side, but Aramis wasn't sure what offensive magic Agnes might have—nor was he sure he wanted to see it put to use.

"You knew about the phoenix?" Athos spoke up. "You kept vital information about this disaster to yourself."

Baron Montheurt scoffed. "I knew after the fact, when one of my peasants came to report what he'd seen while hunting in the woods. I was dealing with it."

"You should have told us."

"And have the King take such a prize for himself? I think not. That creature is mine."

"It belongs to no one!" Agnes lobbed back.

The Baron calmly drew his sword. "Step aside, now."

Rhaego bared his fangs in response. Aramis quickly waved at his dragon to hold his position; he'd seen the various acimite weapons these mercenaries were carrying.

The phoenix suddenly gave a flap of its wings and took flight.

The Baron whirled back toward his dragon, reaching for the saddle. "After it!"

Rhaego leaped at the other dragon with a roar, forcing it back a step. The Baron tripped and went sprawling on the ground as the two dragons hissed and spat at each other. The phoenix disappeared from sight.

The Baron scrambled to his feet.

"Your prize is long gone," Aramis said.

The man's cheeks puffed puce with rage. "Kill them!"

His goons surged forward. Aramis and Athos whipped out their swords and Aramis automatically pushed Agnes behind them. The group of mercenaries split, three to one musketeer. Rhaego twisted to come to their aid but the other dragon shrieked and lunged, forcing him to face it instead.

Aramis fought off two assailants with rapier and main gauche in hand, Athos doing the same. One of the other thugs not directly engaged drew a pistol and levered it up. Gritting his teeth, Aramis flung his main gauche through the air to catch him in the chest. He dropped, and Aramis had to twist to block two blades coming down on him at the same time. The combined brunt of their force upended his balance and drove him to one knee as he fought with both hands on the hilt to keep the swords at bay. But he couldn't dance away from the third rushing at him from the side.

A resounding roar echoed from above and everyone was momentarily distracted by the green dragon that came crashing down on them. Porthos and d'Artagnan leaped from Vrita's back and drew their swords as they plunged into the fray. Vrita screeched and charged the chartreuse dragon battling Rhaego.

One of the men bearing down on Aramis was forced to disengage and spin around to face Porthos. Still on one knee, Aramis reached for his pistol and shot the third trying to come at his exposed side. That one went down with a cry. He turned his attention back in time to thrust the pistol up to catch a dagger descending toward his neck. With two blades crossed between him and his opponent, he still lacked the leverage to regain his feet.

But Porthos dispatched the one he was fighting and stormed forward to smash the hilt of his schiavona into the one locked with Aramis. Aramis grunted as the resistance he'd been struggling against abruptly vanished. Porthos gripped his arm and heaved him to his feet. Aramis flashed him a smile at their timely arrival.

D'Artagnan and Athos were dueling the remaining two mercenaries, and Rhaego and Vrita were driving the Baron's dragon away. Which left the Baron drawing a pistol on Aramis and Porthos.

Aramis didn't know which of them was more in the line of fire; all he knew was he didn't have time to react before there was the crack of the shot. He flinched automatically in expectation of searing pain, but it didn't come. Nor did Porthos jerk or fall from being hit. At that distance, it didn't make sense for the Baron to have missed.

Aramis glanced down in confusion and saw a lead ball hovering in the air, inches from his chest. Then it dropped to the ground.

Rhaego had spun around when he saw the shot, belly igniting with fulvous veins. He belched a stream of fire straight at the Baron, enveloping him in an inferno that didn't even give him a chance to scream.

The geyser distracted the last two mercenaries, allowing Athos and d'Artagnan to finally finish them off. The Baron's dragon tried to rush Rhaego, but Vrita tackled him to the ground. They rolled through ash and soot until finally the chartreuse beast gave up and fled.

With no surrounding foliage to burn, Rhaego's fire winked out rather quickly, leaving the completely charred carcass of the Baron contorted on the ground.

"Bloody hell," Porthos uttered.

Aramis turned to Agnes, gaze questioning. She met his eyes levelly but didn't say anything. Apparently no one had noticed what she'd done. He inclined his head in gratitude.

"Someone wanna explain what's goin' on?" Porthos then demanded, turning to face the rest of them. "Where the hell have you two been?"

"I think he means we're glad you're alive," d'Artagnan said to Athos, eyes alight with joy. He then quirked a brow as he leaned over. "Agnes?"

"Hello, d'Artagnan. Porthos," she replied.

Porthos's jaw ticked as he flicked his gaze over her. "Seriously. We jus' killed a baron. And _you_." He rounded on Aramis. "You can't jus' go disappearin' like that!"

"I'm sorry for worrying you," Aramis said. "Rhaego and I were…taking care of something. It's a long story."

"A phoenix was responsible for starting the fire and the Baron hired that group of mercenaries to capture it," Athos said. "Both of which are now no longer a problem."

Aramis huffed. "Or perhaps it's not that long of a story."

Porthos and d'Artagnan exchanged confused looks.

"A what?" Porthos asked.

"A bird that can burst into fire," Aramis explained. "Athos left out some details, but suffice it to say, it won't be starting anymore fires and since those hunting it are now dead, this type of situation shouldn't happen again either."

There was silence for a prolonged moment.

"You're serious," d'Artagnan spluttered.

Aramis shrugged. "We've already had the 'it sounds crazy' conversation. Best we just accept it and move on."

Porthos cast another wary look at Agnes. He hadn't been comfortable with the idea she was a witch when they'd first met her, so he most definitely would not like to hear confirmation she was one now. "And how do you figure into all this?"

"I was just in the area and offered to help."

"Agnes saved me from the fire," Athos put in.

Aramis eyed him surreptitiously, wondering how much more he would divulge about that. He wasn't keen on keeping this secret from Porthos and d'Artagnan, but it wasn't exactly theirs to share. Perhaps later when they'd had some time to calm down and recover from everything, they could tell the tale in full.

Porthos still looked disgruntled as he regarded them, but he finally exhaled sharply. "Glad yer okay," he said to Athos. He turned to the bodies. "How are we gonna explain this? You really gonna tell the captain there was a bird that burst into fire?"

Aramis and Athos exchanged a wordless glance. No, best this stayed among themselves.

"A wildfire is dangerous," Agnes put in. "It looks to me like the Baron got caught and couldn't escape."

Aramis shrugged. That was as good an explanation as any. The Baron could just be declared missing until someone happened to find his charred out corpse—if they ever did.

"It was nice seeing you all again," Agnes added with a smile. "Though let's hope it doesn't always take a natural disaster."

Aramis shook his head in amusement. "Thank you," he said again meaningfully.

She nodded, then turned to Athos. Walking up to him, she slipped a hand into her pocket and withdrew a small pouch. "For your dragon," she said, placing it in his hand. Then with a nod to everyone else, she turned to head off.

"Um, where are you going?" d'Artagnan asked dubiously, looking around at the devastated area.

"Home," she called over her shoulder. "There's a lot of reconstruction to be done in the forest."

They watched her go, then turned back to each other. In wordless agreement, they made their way to their dragons, both of whom were covered in smeared soot from their tussle. Rhaego was looking forlornly in the direction the phoenix had gone.

Aramis patted his side. "You saved its life. I'm sure it will never forget you."

Rhaego let out a low keen of disappointment.

"Since we all thought Athos was dead and he's miraculously not, think you can let him ride with us back?" Aramis prompted.

Rhaego flicked a look at the swordsman, eyes narrowing a fraction.

"Don't be like that," Aramis chided. "He helped the phoenix too."

Rhaego huffed but gave a clipped nod. Aramis smiled and climbed into the saddle. Athos mounted behind him, and Aramis didn't miss the hiss of pain. He'd be addressing that when they got back.

They flew back to the camp and had no sooner landed then Treville was storming toward them, looking both angry and relieved. He raked his gaze over them all as they dismounted.

"Athos," he acknowledged. "It's good to have you back."

Athos nodded in response.

Treville regarded them shrewdly. "I expect a report eventually, but right now there's still a fire to battle."

"Yes sir," d'Artagnan said. He cast a look at Athos and Aramis. "Maybe I could take Rhaego out for a few rounds?" he suggested, glancing at the red dragon next.

Rhaego's face scrunched up at that, but Aramis skewered him with a pointed look. His dragon grumbled under his breath but walked over to stand beside the young Gascon. Aramis smiled approvingly.

Treville looked taken aback. "Very well." He looked at Athos and Aramis one last time. "Savron is over there," he said, pointing toward the edge of the camp.

"Thank you," Athos replied and turned to head that way.

Aramis followed. He hung back as Athos strode toward where his dragon was lying on the grass. Savron opened his eyes at the sound of approach and immediately lifted his head with a throaty croak. Athos closed the distance and took the silverback's head in his arms, lowering his forehead to Savron's.

Aramis gave them a few moments before coming over. Athos raised his head and roved his gaze over the various burns on his dragon's body.

"How serious are they?" he asked thickly.

"They'll heal. But it will be slow." Aramis waited a beat before adding, "Agnes gave you something."

Athos reached into the fold of his jacket and pulled out the pouch. He stared at it for a long moment. "It would be illegal for me to use it."

"Maybe so, but it's never wrong to help a friend in need," Aramis replied, resting a hand on the side of Savron's neck. The dragon watched them curiously. "If it makes you feel more comfortable," Aramis went on, "I'll do it."

"No," Athos said. "I will."

Aramis nodded and started to walk away to leave them to it. "I'm going to check your own burns when you're done," he delivered over his shoulder, not giving Athos a chance to respond.

.o.0.o.

The pouch Agnes had given Athos contained a vial with a potion. It looked innocuous enough, and if anyone saw him with it they'd have no reason to assume it wasn't some natural concoction. Maybe it was, in a way. What was it that Agnes had called herself the first time they'd met? A scientist. A student of the universe in all its facets.

Athos uncorked the vial and gripped Savron's chin to pour the contents into his mouth. His dragon grimaced as he swallowed, though whether it was because he disliked the taste or his wounds were paining him, Athos didn't know. He stroked the silverback's forehead soothingly and waited. He supposed if magic was involved he'd been expecting an instantaneous cure, but Savron's eyelids merely started drooping as sleep pulled at him. Athos lowered his head to the ground to let him rest. Then with a resigned sigh, he turned to head to his tent to check his own burns.

Aramis was waiting for him, of course. Athos didn't bother protesting as he wordlessly began to undress. Aramis's eyes widened at the blackened scraps that remained of his braes. Athos grimaced as the fabric brushed against his raw flesh when he pulled it apart to expose the burns.

Aramis knelt down to get a look at his legs. "They don't look that bad," he said, sounding surprised.

"I didn't see them before," Athos admitted. Which was probably for the best.

Aramis's mouth thinned. "We used most of the honey on Savron's wounds. I'm not sure if there's any left."

"They're fine. Agnes's skills as a healer are sufficient."

"Better than mine."

"Yet you were the one who performed surgery on a firebird."

His lips quirked and he stood up. "I'll report to the captain. I'll tell him you escaped the fire but were unconscious for a time from smoke inhalation. Rhaego and I found you making your way back when we were attacked by some bandits. You're relieved of duty. Medic's orders."

Athos didn't argue. With Savron out of commission, he wouldn't be joining the others on dump runs. And when it was time for Aramis to go out again, there'd be no one to stop him from pitching in around the camp.

Once Aramis was satisfied with his assessment, Athos went back to keep watch over his dragon. He kept staring at the burns, waiting for them to magically mend. They didn't. He started to think maybe Agnes's remedy had failed. Maybe there was nothing magical to it after all.

The nights were still warm and Athos stayed with his friend, falling asleep on the grass under the stars. He was nudged awake the next morning by Savron's nose poking his shoulder. Athos jolted and sat up, blinking groggily. Savron's eyes were bright and happy, and with a yawn, he got to his feet. Athos jumped up and gazed in amazement at the burns, which, while not completely healed, were much better than they had been. His shoulders loosened some of their tension.

He decided to take Savron away from the camp now that he was mobile. Jean would have questions if he saw how quickly those wounds had improved and Athos hoped to avoid them for a bit. Aramis found them at the lake, looked Savron over, and nodded in approval before taking his leave to return to duty.

It took another two days to put out the wildfire, a success that came easier now that there wasn't a firebird running around randomly bursting into flames. Baron Montheurt's absence had been noted, but preliminary search parties hadn't come up with anything. There was speculation that an accident had befallen him like it had Athos, and if so, then he might not have ended up as lucky. It was likely he would be declared a hero by the King for his sacrifice in defending the country against this natural disaster.

The regiment was to take a day for some well-deserved rest before packing up the camp and making their way back to Paris. Savron's burns continued to heal at a normal pace, as did Athos's, but there was no denying Agnes's help had saved them a lot of suffering. While the others were recuperating, Athos took Savron out for a flight, making a detour to where he thought Agnes's home was. It wasn't hard to spot along the edge of the fire damage, and the razed section of wood allowed Savron to make an easy landing.

As they approached the hut, Athos spotted those numerous woodland animals still congregated outside. Some of them scattered at Savron's presence while others cowered together. Athos drew to a stop, uncertain if Agnes would be offended should they frighten her…refugees.

The door of the small cottage opened and Agnes stepped out. With a gesture to the animals, most of them seemed to calm.

"Apologies for the intrusion," Athos said.

"It's no intrusion," she replied, looking at Savron. "I'm glad to see you both are well."

"I owe you a great deal of thanks."

She smiled. "You saved my life once, remember?"

He supposed he had. That had been a treasonous act too.

A large brown shadow swooped overhead to alight on the roof, and Athos arched a brow in surprise. The phoenix scuttled around before settling into a comfortable perch.

Agnes followed his gaze. "This is a sanctuary for everyone who needs it."

He had nothing to say to that, but his lips quirked. "Anyway," he said, "I just wanted to convey my gratitude."

Agnes nodded. "Be well, Athos."

"And you."

He and Savron turned to leave. Somehow he felt this place was in good hands.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT TIME
> 
> Aramis, Porthos, and their dragons are captured and forced to participate in an underground fighting ring.


End file.
